


Making Do

by quiet__tiger



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Joker loves Batman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 17:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiet__tiger/pseuds/quiet__tiger
Summary: Joker's toy gets taken away.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Doll."
> 
> Originally posted to Livejournal Sep. 15th, 2008.

“Give it back! No!!” Joker howled as the Arkham guards took away his doll. They completely ignored his command, which wasn’t surprising, but it still made his blood boil.

The beefy, short guard waved the doll towards the tall, thinner guard. “Lookit this, usin’ needles.” He turned to Joker to mock, “Don’t ya know yer supposed to use pins, not needles?”

“I’ll use pins and needles on you! Make a coat out of you.”

The beefy guard lost his smile. Joker wanted to put it back. Painfully. Permanently. “Alright, Joker. No threats or ya get yer own needle.” He nodded toward the thinner guard, who took a hypodermic needle out of his pocket.

“It’s not what you _think_ it is, Tweedledum! I don’t even know how--” His argument was cut off by the thin guard injecting him with a sedative. “Not fair! It’s two against one!”

Tweedledum answered, all wide grin and yellow teeth, “Life isn’t fair, Freak.” Then he and the other guard left Joker’s cell as he continued to mock, “Lookit that, tryin’ t’make a voodoo doll outta scraps ah sheets an’ pillows. Buncha damn weirdoes in this place. Gotta get me a real job.”

Joker succumbed to the sedative, his limbs getting heavy; the guards must have gotten the right kind and the right amount this time. Usually it wasn’t enough to bring him down for good.

As he lay back on his cot and curled into a ball, he mourned the loss of his doll. He’d worked on collecting scraps of cloth and had one of the other inmates steal sewing needles for him, and he’d worked hard on the doll to make it good, and now it was gone. And he hadn’t even gotten to finish it.

And it wasn’t a _voodoo_ doll, that wasn’t Joker’s style. It wasn’t hands-on enough. If he were going to inflict pain on Batman, he was damn well going to do it himself. Up close. Personal. Intimate.

Eyelids finally too heavy to keep open, he passed out, wondering if he’d be able to get enough material to make another Batman plushie to sleep with. Since he couldn’t wrap around the man himself, the doll would have had to make do.

He’d make sure to kill Tweedledum first the next time he escaped.  



End file.
